Three
‘BE NICE TO him, Holly.’
Holly Purman smiled and put on her most innocent expression, the one she reserved for when her grandfather was asking something of her that she didn’t want to give. The one that usually worked like a charm. ‘When am I ever not nice to anyone?’
‘I mean it,’ Gus growled, refusing point-blank this time to be swayed. ‘I know what you’re like when you get a bee in your bonnet about something or somebody, and I reckon there’s an entire hive buzzing around up there right now.’
‘Nobody wears bonnets these days, Pop.’ She stooped down to kiss her grandfather’s creased forehead, adding with a grin, ‘They’re old hat.’
‘This is no joking matter, Holly! I want you to take this visit from Franco Chatsfield seriously. It’s a big deal, him coming all this way to talk to us, and the money he’s talking—well, it could set us up for life.’
Holly sighed, abandoning the plans she had to head out to the paddock to let the sheep into the vineyard. The sheep weren’t going to starve in the next thirty minutes and the winter weeds would still be waiting for them in the rows between the vines. Besides, she was hardly going to convince her grandfather that a deal with Chatsfield wasn’t going to be the deal of the century without having the conversation she’d been stewing over ever since Gus had taken the phone call agreeing to some representative from Chatsfield’s visiting with an offer.
She pulled up a chair opposite her grandfather and sat down, putting her hand over his where it rested on the arm of his wheelchair. ‘Okay, Pop, I’ll be serious. We have interest from the Chatsfield Hotel Group. This isn’t so surprising, surely? After winning gold or silver at nearly every wine show going, suddenly everyone wants a piece of Purman Wines. We’ve had loads of interest from potential buyers from all over Australia and from that big supermarket chain in the UK, and I thought you were happy with those. So why are you so excited about some guy coming from Chatsfield? What can hooking up with them give us that none of the others can?’
‘Exposure, that’s what! You know as well as I do that a deal with Chatsfield will give us a global exposure we won’t get through any of our other offers! Chatsfield can take our wine to the world and give it a five-star tick of approval into the deal. You can’t buy that kind of promotion!’
She rubbed her temple where a pulse beat insistently beneath, wishing she’d been in the office the day the call had come in—the call her grandfather had taken in her absence and been so excited about since. She wouldn’t have been so quick to agree to the visit. In fact, she would most likely have told Franco Chatsfield or whatever his name was not to waste his time and effort.
But by the time she’d found out, he was already on his way. And her grandfather was right, she’d been fuming about it ever since. She patted his hand now, willing herself to calm down before she spoke.
‘Sure, Pop, you’re right. We’ll get international exposure if we hook up with Chatsfield, nothing surer, but is it the sort of exposure Purman Wines really wants? Every week it seems there’s another scandal involving that family. What with Lucca Chatsfield caught in a … well, let’s just say “compromising situation” … Do we as a quality brand want the Purman name linked with theirs? We’ve both worked so hard to ensure its success, and I don’t want to see the Purman name dragged through the mud.’
‘Chatsfield is the most prestigious hotel chain in the world!’
‘It used to be, Pop. Once upon a time it used to stand for something special. It still clings to its heritage every chance it gets, but these days the brand is more synonymous with scandal than style.’
His eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head. Emphatic. ‘No, no, no! That’s all in the past. Things are turning around. That’s what he told me. There’s a new CEO in charge and the entire chain is getting a makeover. Overhauling their menu and wine list is part of the deal. They’re spending big dollars, Holly, to get the very best. They’re offering the big bucks. Why shouldn’t we cash in on it?’
Holly gave her grandfather a wan smile. ‘We’ve met men with fat wallets who promised the world before, Pop, remember? I don’t recall you being quite so excited then.’
Gus snorted and crooked an eyebrow, his eyes still a piercing blue and sharp as a needle, although the skin around them was creased and tanned from a lifetime of working outdoors. ‘Is that what this is all about? Something that happened ten years ago?’ His gaze grew more intent, his expression deadly serious. ‘He was never good enough for you, Holly, and you know it!’
‘I know that,’ she said, sucking in air at that old familiar stab of hurt, dulled now with the passage of time, but still lurking. Still hurting if she let it. And sometimes she did, just to remind herself never to be so naive again. ‘But that’s not what I meant. Because I recall what happened after you’d sent him packing—when he did his best to drag the Purman name through the mud. Don’t you remember all those poisonous articles in the papers he wrote where he called us “Poorman Wines”? And all those calls from clients cancelling orders, worrying we couldn’t deliver? Don’t you remember all those phone calls from reporters believing we wouldn’t be in business twelve months down the line? Do we really want to bring that kind of exposure on us again?’
‘But this will be different. The money alone—’
‘Money
